Since I was in a virtual mommy-brain fog for the first few month’s of my son’s life- you are obviously getting the birth story after the fact. 3 months after the fact- if you want to get technical about it.

Spitup boy’s conception was a novel in and of itself, and the pregnancy was no picnic in the park either. So, stupid me thought that the actual labor and delivery part had to be a bit simpler. I figured 24 hours of pain vs. 4 years- seemed like a walk in the park right? Why I thought that, I still don’t know. But I figured karmically, I was due something…and honestly all signs were pointing towards an easy delivery.

At 35 weeks I was 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced. At 36 weeks, I was about 3cm. So things where moving along very nicely. I had up to this point, felt nothing. Not a twinge, a cramp, or a contraction. This should be a breeze!

At around 36 weeks- I finally broke down and gave my hubby the keys to the castle. So far, we hadn’t "done the deed" at all since the peanut was conceived, because I was too paranoid to even think about it. Once we finally "did it" (which freaked me out by the way, because spitup boy was kicking and moving around WAY too much…) I started having contractions. HOLY CRAP! Contractions hurt!! I was a fool…a complete fool…why did I think that a human being would come out of my body and not feel any kind of pain?? Two hours later we found ourselves sitting in a hospital room- waiting around for something to happen.

I thought I was dying…but according to the doctors I was very far from it. I was strapped up the monitors, and they were barely registering on the machine. Apparently, these cramps that hurt so bad, where nothing compared to actual contractions. To late to back out now…. So I was sent home - having made no progress what-so-ever. In fact, the L&D nurse had huge hands and claimed that I was only 2cm dilated.

But I was 3cm last week! Can you go backwards?

The next two weeks were pretty uneventful. Every time I went to see my OB/GYN she would say that I have progressed further and she would be surprised if I made it to the weekend. A week later- there I would be in her office, getting fatter by the minute.

We had another short scare- where we thought I was in labor. But after a few hours in L&D they gave me a couple of sleeping pills and sent me on my way. After the second visit to the hospital- my husband was at the point where he was not driving me to the hospital unless he could see the head or my water had broken.

 I was cocky. I thought that since I was already 5cm dilated that the labor would go quickly- and my books said that only a small percentage of women actually had their water break. So how was I supposed to know when it was the real thing?

Fast forward to 38 weeks- I went in on Wed morning for my routine OB/GYN visit. She checked me internally and then said the magic words that I had been waiting to hear "SCHEDULED INDUCTION!"

Yippeee!! Get this kid out now!!! Where do I sign up?

Monday morning we drove to the hospital at 7am ready to get this thing underway. The night before I stuffed myself full of steak and potatoes from Outback Steakhouse- so I was full of protein and ready to have a baby. Things moved really quickly after that. 8AM they broke my water and started me on pitocin.

Note: Anyone that has never had pitocin let me just preface by saying that it is a vile liquid. EVIL in an IV bag.

They started me off with just a tiny bit, and I did just as I was told. The contractions started coming…and coming…and coming. They really never let up. Later on, I would be told that I was hyper stimulated…but that would come later. I began to block out the outside world- everyone was touching me and talking to me, and driving me NUTS! The contractions hurt- and I was just trying to breathe. That was my entire goal for the day….don’t pass out. It has to end eventually.

 Then when I thought I had a handle on it, the damn nurse would come in and turn up the pit drip. If I was able to get up- I would have punched her in the nose. Oh and let’s not forget my husband aka "the ice chip eater"…oi!

By 11AM I was about 7cm and ready for drugs. Enter the epidural. Cue the lights and angelic music….OMG he was really handsome. Ok maybe not, but he had drugs, so to me he was the most attractive thing to ever live. The epidural was a breeze, it didn’t hurt and the numb feeling was kind of nice. It didn’t really take like it should have though- so I could feel everything on the right hand side. Still better than the whole belly…so I took it with a smile.

Then it got scary. Shortly after the epidural, spitup boys heart rate dropped. The nurse ran in and they rolled me on my side and gave me an oxygen mask. I honestly don’t think there is anything scarier than having that mask on your face. No explanations, just beeping monitors and worried faces. He heart rate went back up- so they decided to turn off the pitocin drip and let us rest for a bit. But things were already in motion, and the contractions wouldn’t stop. They were non-stop at this point. Someone came in to measure me and I was 9 and a half cm at this point. I dilated 2 and a half cm within a 10 minute period. Which is super fast.

Then it happened- his heart rate dropped down into the 40’s this time. Doctors were running in and shooting me full of all kinds of drugs- and the words "C-section" were uttered. I knew nothing about c-sections! I goofed off during that part of the labor classes. OH CRAP! I was worried about the baby- I really didn’t even think about the fact that I was going under the knife. I didn’t have a lot of time to process it. I was in the delivery room within 5 minutes of his heart rate dropping. Once we finally got in there, I started throwing up- and couldn’t stop. As the spinal took effect, I began to feel numb from the chin down. Towards the end, I couldn’t get a deep enough breathe to throw up, so I just sort of heaved…They gave me something via IV to stop the naseau, but it made me really sleepy. I struggled to keep my eyes open during the surgery. All I remember is the feeling that I had when they were cutting me open. Apparently the muscles start to spasm when they are cut, and it felt like the baby was inside kicking my insides furiously. Then I turned to the side- and there he was. Puffy, pink, and beautiful.

Is he ok? Yes….Ok…good night…

I then passed out. The next four days were a vicotin induced blur of bleeding nipples, baby pee, and more vomiting. Since I was almost ready to start pushing when I had the c-section, I had to basically heal from a vaginal and a c-section delivery.

I was told a few weeks later that spitup boy’s heart rate was dipping because I was progressing too quickly. Spitup boy was shooting down the birth canal and hitting his head on my pelvic bone with every contraction. He actually had a big bump on his head because of it.

So from start to finish- the labor lasted 4 hours total!

Hi! Hola! Wazz Up!?! Welcome to my little corner of the world- I thought I would start off by telling you a little bit about my journey to parenthood.

….Go ahead- take a potty break, grab a cold beverage…this could take a while!

I married the love of my life (a tall, skinny, goofy oddball - that I love more than anything) and as it often happens in life…my thoughts turned to starting a family. After a bit of consideration, we decided to get off the pill and get to the hard work of making a baby. (wink, wink)

6 Months later- I had yet to have a period on my own. I could no longer blame the birth control, and started wondering if something was wrong. A year went by- and still no baby. So we called in the professionals. The diagnosis- Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. Basically, every month instead of ovulating my body created a cyst on my ovary. When we had a peek inside- I had over 50 cysts on each ovary. YOW! We were in trouble…

We first started off on a drug called metformin, which was supposed to help the underlying PCOS symptoms. A year of that, and I would have periods every 3 months or so. Still not prime baby making stuff.

So then, we got a bit more aggressive- Clomid was the next drug on the list. Now that drug was EVIL! It made me wacky, here I was 24 years old and having hot flashes like a menopausal woman. I was a complete bear to be around, which seemed somewhat counter productive. Who would want to make a baby with a crazy witch woman? Well 8 months of that…and still no bun in the oven.

Then we included HSG shots and IUI’s. Basically once a month they would give me a shot in the butt that burned like hell, and then they would take hubby’s sperm and manually place it in the right spot for conception. Yeah- the romance was officially gone!

It had now been almost 3 years- and we were still childless. When the doctor finally threw in the towel and told us it was invitro or nothing- it was actually strangly comforting. After days and days of discussions- we decided that we couldn’t risk the 20K on invitro when there was only a chance that it would work. We instead decided to adopt.

Once the baby thing was no longer reliant on my lazy ovaries- I had a renewed sense of self! Within weeks we had the paperwork filled out and our appointment for our homestudy. We were going to adopt and couldn’t have been happier. We even started having sex again…like the way we did before the doctors got all up in our business.
Since we were adopting, I saw no reason to have such wacky cycles anymore so I wanted to get on the pill again. Just so that I didn’t really have to deal with it anymore. The doctor ordered a pregnancy test (gee..thanks doc way to waste my money) just to be sure. And what do you know…..

I WAS PREGNANT!!!!

So yes…we are one of those cases that finally got prego when we stopped trying!

9 months of morning sickness (yes I had it the entire pregnancy), gestational diabetes, and an emergency c-section…and here we are. My miracle baby is here! Now I just have to figure out what to do with him now…..